"You hit him with your car? That's how you guys met?"
"Yup. And I wouldn't have it any other way."
In which two hot-headed musicians learn to tolerate each other.
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song: gold dust - duster November, 1983
★
"OH, GOD." I groan, squeezing my eyes tighter, hoping that it would help relieve my headache. I try to stretch on the couch but my legs hit something.
"Get off of me." James hisses.
"I barely even touched you." I retort, my eyes narrowing at the blonde. I move the blanket off of me and sit up straight, my feet touching the ground.
James lifts his legs and puts them on the coffee table, his ankles crossing over each other. He grabs the TV remote and turns it on, an obnoxiously loud scream voices itself the second the screen is on, making my head hurt even more.
"Do you have to watch with the volume on 500?" I whine.
This asshole looks me dead in the eye and holds the remote, pointing to the TV and making the volume even higher.
"Oh, fuck you." My eyes narrow at him as I get up, tripping on the blanket while I do so. He stifles a laugh and I glare at him as I walk to the bathroom.
The party finished late, last night, and when I went to grab Willow, she was already conked out on the recliner. Cliff told us that we should stay the night and that 4 am was too late for us to go home on our own. I accepted the offer and almost immediately passed out on the couch.
I look into the mirror and see a girl from a horror movie. My curly hair is all frizzed up and sticking out everywhere. My mascara was smudged and blended perfectly with my dark under eyes and my lipstick was partially gone. My tan skin looked pale under the weak bathroom lights and I couldn't stand the taste of my mouth. I rinse my mouth with water then grab the toothpaste and place a little bit on the tip of my finger, using it as a faux toothbrush.
Once I finish, I go back outside and into the kitchen. I'm greeted by Lars in his underwear, which barely covers anything, as he's standing over the stove, making Lord knows what.
"Breakfast, my lovelies!" He cheerily calls.
Kirk and Cliff go to the kitchen and, reluctantly, I follow them to the counter, grabbing the plate Lars hands me. I notice the sound the food makes when he drops it onto my plate.
"Lars, what are you feeding me?" I hold the food in my hand, knocking it onto the plate.
